


past tense (?)

by historiologies



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, lovers to enemies to lovers AU, please i hope this is not terrible, stuck in a log cabin and bedsharing for survival!!!!!! kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 10:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15817347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/historiologies/pseuds/historiologies
Summary: Soonyoung and Wonwoo are stuck in a log cabin for the weekend because of a sudden freak snowstorm.Also, they are exes.





	past tense (?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wonsteapot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonsteapot/gifts).



> To dear Ru,
> 
> I hope you enjoy this! I went with your prompt 'the two of them being stranded on an uninhabited island or a similar scenario' and decided to go with the 'stuck in a log cabin and sharing a bed for survival/warmth' trope that every ship worth its sails must have, am I right? I hope you like it because you're a great person who deserves the absolute best of everything!
> 
> To everyone else,
> 
> I hope you enjoy these two squabbling boys in love.

This is officially Soonyoung’s third worst day ever.

The first is easily the day that he met Wonwoo, and the second is the day Wonwoo broke up with him. It feels needless to say that probably nothing will ever unseat the first worst day ever in Soonyoung’s mind because worst day evers #s 2 to 10 all stem from Jeon Wonwoo entering his life. All the worst days ever vary in worstness, but this pretty much peak worst-ability.

“I can’t believe this _noona_ ,” he hisses into the phone, trying to convey how angry he is without letting the person sitting calmly on the other side of the room know how rattled he is by the whole situation. “ _He’s_ your plus one? I thought you were bringing Byul- _noona_.”

“Soonyoung, I’m eighty percent sure I told you about it!” Seulgi replies, the terrible reception making her voice sound cracklier than usual. “Are you sure I never mentioned it?”

“Oh my God, _noona_ ,” he whines, just a little, the tight ball of annoyance in his chest giving way to something more desperate. He’s sure he would have remembered his fellow dance teacher mentioning that her plus one would be her kind of younger brother, who had probably come for a quick vacation from Canada where he’d been taking up cinematography classes. Her younger brother, with the strange uneven eyes and the deep rumbling laugh, currently seated on one of the plush rattan chairs in the house he and his other dance teachers from the studio rented for the weekend. Seulgi’s younger brother, who also happened to be his ex-boyfriend.

Past tense. Was his ex-boyfriend. Now Soonyoung just doesn’t know a Wonwoo.

_Seulgi must hate me, deep-down. There’s no other explanation._

He sighs, trying to ignore the indignation clogging his throat. “Please just get here before I do something I regret.”

“Oh Soonyoung, I’m sorry. He asked me if he could come and I really thought I’d cleared it with you.” Seulgi’s voice sounds truly apologetic, and it thaws the iciness that Soonyoung wrapped around himself the second he stepped into the cozy cabin in Gangwon-do, ski gear and equipment in tow, and saw Wonwoo quietly reading a book by the living room, sipping a mug of hot chocolate.

“Hello Soonyoung,” Wonwoo greeted him, expression fixed in what Soonyoung remembers as his ‘I’m trying to look casually cheerful but I’m actually feeling really anxious inside’ look.

(It was the same look he had when he broke up with him, one morning at a neighborhood park two springs ago. He can still remember how the cherry blossoms fell around Wonwoo’s figure as he walked silently away from him.)

He stood up, inclining his head just a little at Soonyoung, who was still standing in the doorway, eyes wide and staring, hands clutched around his bags for dear life. “It’s been awhile.”

_Two fucking years, but who’s counting, really?_

“It… maybe you did and I just forgot or something,” Soonyoung grumbles, red tingeing the tips of his ears. He’s not about to admit to Seulgi that maybe, perhaps, sometimes, he tunes her out when she’s asking him something and he’s on a roll with choreographing. He adores Seulgi—if he didn’t, he would have resigned from the dance studio they both taught at after her brother dumped him to go abroad—but sometimes the things she says go in one ear and out the other.

It serves him right then, he supposes.

“What time will you guys get here? You’re still with Chan and Junhui, right?”

“Yeah, they’re in the car right behind me. Byul- _unnie_ had to go to Osaka for work, or else she would have come with us.” He hears a car horn blare once, twice, thrice in quick succession; Seulgi must be stuck in traffic then. “Just, don’t kill each other before we get there, okay? If you can remain civil for another hour, then I’ll come and keep him out of your hair for the rest of the weekend, and you can stay with Channie and Junnie for the rest of the trip.”

“One hour.” Soonyoung looks up at the ceiling, dutifully ignoring the way Wonwoo’s eyes are flicking over in his direction. “Fine. Maybe I can just unpack or something.”

“Okay,” Seulgi says, sounding relieved. “You two can just, keep out of each other’s hair and I’ll be right there. Can’t wait! Bye!” She’s giggling, and Soonyoung can tell it’s a nervous affectation even when she puts the phone down on him.

“Soonyoung? Was that _noona_?”

“Yes,” Soonyoung answers shortly, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. “She’ll be here in an hour.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo murmurs. He has his hands folded over his lap, book lying next to him, bookmark tucked neatly to mark the page where he was when Soonyoung had come in.

He’s so placid and calm; Soonyoung doesn’t know why it makes him so annoyed. His temper flares, cheeks heating up. “Why are you here ahead anyway? Shouldn’t you have come with her? Wait,” Soonyoung holds up a hand. “Don’t answer any of that. I don’t want to talk to you.”

It doesn’t help that he had the worst drive of his life coming up to Gangwon-do from Seoul. The snow had started early that morning, and the closer he got to the cabin, the heavier the swirls of sleet and ice fell over his car and the highways. He’d heard over the radio that tomorrow they were expecting up to thirty centimeters of snow, and he just hopes that it won’t be hard for them to drive to the ski resort a few miles away during the weekend.

Wonwoo sighs. “Soonyoung...”

Soonyoung marches over to the front door where he had dumped all of his stuff in his haste to call Seulgi, picks them all up. It’s a little difficult to look decisive and aloof while wrapped in a large padded jacket with an armful of gear, but he glares defiantly at Wonwoo nonetheless.

He points a finger at Wonwoo, who is already standing up to come over and help him. “Don’t come near me.”

Wonwoo crosses his arms, brow raised as if to challenge. “So you don’t need any help with your skis and snowshoes and luggage then?” It’s infuriating to Soonyoung how the past two years haven’t changed him at all—he still looks the same, from his wavy black hair that’s a little too long over his eyes to his wide but narrow frame, currently framed in a warm-looking deep green and blue plaid sweater. His glasses are nowhere to be seen, but he’s not squinting at Soonyoung, which means he’s got his contacts on.

Soonyoung scowls at himself for remembering that little detail, before giving his head a quick shake. “I can handle all of this,” he announces, gesturing at the pile at his feet. “By myself. I am going to find my room and take a nap and when Seulgi and the others get here, we can both pretend that we don’t know each other for the rest of the trip.”

“But Soonyoung…”

“Nope, nope, no buts,” Soonyoung calls over his shoulder. He grits his teeth as he feels the frames of his snowshoes digging into his side. “We will maintain a fixed distance of at least ten feet from each other at all times. This will be my last form of communication with you.”

“You’re being ridiculous—”

Soonyoung gapes, turns around. “You think _I’m_ the ridiculous one?”

Wonwoo’s eyes roll at his dramatics, but he shakes his head. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Wonwoo, no offense, but I stopped giving a fuck about whether you meant anything two years ago.” Soonyoung gives him a pointed look to remind him that he’s not to be followed, before he stomps up the stairs, bag and equipment in his arms, and takes the bedroom farthest from the door.

*

In retrospect, the choice of taking the farthest bedroom is a poor one.

Soonyoung awakens to suboptimal temperatures and the evening sky. He shivers, even underneath the layers of woolly blankets heaped on top of him, wondering out loud why no one bothered to wake him. He checks his phone, cursing under his breath when he sees that it’s dead.

“Fucking Wonwoo,” he grumbles, finding it easy to blame the person who caused him to take that anger nap in the first place.

He tosses his phone back onto the side table, before rubbing his eyes with his fists and sitting up gingerly. It’s dark—really dark. Darker than he anticipated 5pm would be, which was the time he expected Seulgi and the others to come in.

His stomach senses his discomfort and turns uneasily. “I have a bad feeling about this,” he murmurs out loud. He’s hesitant about stepping out and running into Wonwoo again, but he can’t wait in his room (which is, for some reason, not warming up as well as it should) forever. He takes a deep breath, shoves his bare feet into thick gray socks, and pushes out the door.

It’s dark in the hallway that spindles out into the four rooms that make up the cabin they were staying at for the weekend. Cabin, however, feels like a disservice to how big it actually was. They had rented it from one of Seulgi’s friends, a remote house with four bedrooms, large windows and a backyard for camping and cookouts. There was a space in the back big enough for a little garden, which probably looked pretty neat in the summers, and the whole place was just a few miles away from the closest ski resorts in Gangwon-do.

Up until his nasty surprise upon opening the door, he had seen the view of the open gate and the stone steps leading up to a quiet house sitting neatly out on the glade, blanketed in sparkling white snow, and he squealed internally to himself at how picturesque everything was, the fatigue from driving through the falling snow almost falling off his shoulders at the sight.

Alas.

Soonyoung pads forward, one of the woolly throws slung around his shoulders to protect him from the cold that just keeps seeping through the walls no matter how hard he tries. He looks curiously at the walls, at the old photographs and paintings and pressed flowers dotting the way. There’s a warm light just at the right of the end of the hallway, where he knows the living room (and the place where Wonwoo was sitting when he arrived earlier) is. It’s still quiet though, which means people were either sleeping or not yet there.

He hopes fervently for the former.

When he rounds the corner, Wonwoo is sitting by the firebox, poking at the insides tentatively. He looks so small, with his knees tucked under his chin. It irks Soonyoung that he can still make him feel like he wants to curl up against him when he looks like that.

“Where is everyone?”

Soonyoung feels a small, petty thrill when he sees Wonwoo jolt at the sound of his voice.

“Jesus Christ, man. Are you trying to kill me?” Wonwoo grumbles, hand clutching at his chest.

“If I were actually _trying_ , Wonwoo, you wouldn’t need to clarify,” Soonyoung replies snippily. He plops onto the chair furthest away from Wonwoo, tugs the throw tighter around his shoulders. “Where is everyone?”

Wonwoo turns around to face him, fully, looking confused. “Didn’t you check your phone?”

“It’s dead, why?”

Realization dawns on Wonwoo’s face, and the sinking feeling Soonyoung has had since waking up has turned into a fully-fledged submarine. “Oh. When Seulgi said earlier that she couldn’t reach you, I thought it was just bad cell service. She said she’d text you.”

“Why? Why would she need to reach me?”

Wonwoo looks so uncomfortable now; he’s starting to fidget in his place. “The, uh, the pass going up here got so bad, the local authorities closed down the roads. They were asked to turn back.”

Soonyoung can literally feel the blood drain from his face at the words. “What are you saying?”

Wonwoo sighs, turns back to the firebox in an effort to push the flame higher. “It means we’re stuck here until the snow stops.”

This is definitely Soonyoung’s third worst day ever.

*

Wonwoo takes charge of rustling up enough food for the both of them. The caretakers of the house had kindly filled up their pantries and refrigerators before turning the house over to them, Wonwoo had explained while moving around frenetically, as if convinced that if he stopped at one spot Soonyoung would eviscerate him. At least, that’s what Soonyoung thinks he’s saying. Through his haze of disbelief and shock, it reaches Soonyoung that at the very least they won’t be left to starve. The electricity and heat are still on, but Soonyoung’s positive that the _ondol_ under his particular room is broken, so he’ll have to find another room to sleep in until morning.

Because he’s definitely leaving in the morning.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to go anywhere until the storm dies down,” Wonwoo tells him, sitting at the dining table as Soonyoung paces in front of the large front window, which was nothing but a view of the darkness, speckled with swirls of white. “It’ll be too dangerous.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Soonyoung snaps. He feels like he’s about to leap out of his skin. It would be the better way to go, honestly; at least he wouldn’t have to be stuck with Wonwoo.

“I know this is a bad situation, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo says quietly, and Soonyoung curses to himself when he realizes he was talking out loud. “And I don’t want to make things worse so why don’t we just… agree to stay out of each other’s way until morning. Okay?”

Soonyoung sighs. He’s always hated when Wonwoo looked like that.

“Like what?”

God, he really has to stop talking out loud.

“Like I kicked you in the shins,” Soonyoung mutters, scowling and crossing his arms. “You look like a pitiful little kitten.”

Wonwoo ponders at his words, before cracking the smallest smile. “I like cats anyway.”

Soonyoung remembers. He rolls his eyes and stops pacing, sitting down across from Wonwoo at the dinner table and tentatively pulling the bowl of food Wonwoo had prepared toward him. He can’t deny being hungry anymore. “What’s all this?”

His heart does a slow little turn when he peers down at the food, ignoring the way his cheeks flame up.

Wonwoo shrugs bashfully. “There was some rice and some kimchi in the refrigerator so… I know you were always better at making it but I just thought, you know, I should try it.”

There’s a lump in Soonyoung’s throat when he looks down and sees the scrambled up mash of kimchi, garlic and rice in a bowl in front of him. “Kimchi fried rice?”

_Like the way I used to make it for you._

Used to.

He picks up his chopsticks and picks up a mouthful, shovelling it in before his nose starts to tingle.

Immediately Soonyoung raises an eyebrow; he barely suppresses a small noise of satisfaction.

“Good?” Wonwoo asks, a tentative little smile spreading across his face.

“Passable,” Soonyoung admits, grouchily. “Where did you finally learn how to cook decently?”

“In Manitoba,” Wonwoo quips easily. He leans forward and perches his chin on his hands, watching Soonyoung pick at the rice he’d made awhile ago. “The director of photography I interned under had this studio for an office, and it was right next to this Korean grocery where the _ahjumma_ liked giving me her extra kimchi during lunch. I remembered how you, how you cooked this and just… it was nice. It reminded me of back home.”

Soonyoung purses his lips. He doesn’t want to get into a shouting match so he shoves his knee-jerk response back down into his chest. “How was the cinematography school then? Did you… did you do well?”

He doesn’t want to know, not really. He still remembers how enthusiastic Wonwoo was about getting into different forms of photography and filming, how he even looked forward to seeing the prints Wonwoo was developing in the makeshift dark room he’d helped Wonwoo set up in his apartment. He didn’t know that Wonwoo’s fascination with the visual arts would lead to him pursue further studies, and he definitely didn’t know that he had to go all the way to Canada for them.

“I did okay,” Wonwoo replies quietly. He pats the top of his head awkwardly, and his fringe of too-long hair dances across his eyes like he’s trying to hide himself away. It used to be one of the most endearing things about him.

Now it just pisses Soonyoung off.

“I’d hoped you’d done better than okay,” he mutters. “After all, you broke up with me for those classes.”

“That’s not true, Soon-”

“Let’s _not_ rewrite history, Wonwoo. You at least owe me that. ”

“Soonyoung, _you_ broke up with _me_ ,” Wonwoo blurts out, eyes wide with surprise. “What are you talking about?”

Soonyoung stands abruptly. “Don’t be stupid, Wonwoo. I would have remembered if I broke up with you, because I loved yo—”

He stops, covers his mouth in shock. Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that, especially not to the person who deserved to hear it the least.

Wonwoo’s jaw has dropped open, and he’s staring back at Soonyoung, completely gobsmacked. “What did you say?”

“Forget it,” Soonyoung snaps. He picks up the bowl and the chopsticks, and stomps out of the dining area. “Good night, good bye, I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”

“We should talk about this Soonyoung, wait—”

“No, we are not talking about anything—”

“For fuck’s sake,” Wonwoo yells, and it makes Soonyoung jolt and almost drop the metal chopsticks on his pajama’d feet. “You’ll have to stop running away from me at some point, Soonyoung. We’re stuck here together and we have to stay together.”

“Does it look to you like we’re still a couple and I have to take into consideration what you used to say? We _used_ to date. Past tense. You have no right to tell me to do anything,” Soonyoung retorts. “Tomorrow, I’m leaving and we’ll never have to see each other again for the rest of our lives.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Soonyoung.” Wonwoo, finally fed up with being walked out on, marches over to Soonyoung, until he’s so close Soonyoung has to tilt his chin up to continue to glare at him in the eye. He’d forgotten how much more taller Wonwoo was than him, and he hates that the first thing he notices about Wonwoo being so close is that he smells exactly the same as Soonyoung remembers—like a spring day in the glen. “I’ve moved back.”

_He…_

“You what?”

Soonyoung barely resists the urge to smack the smug smirk off Wonwoo’s face. “Seulgi probably neglected to mention it but I got an opportunity to work under one of the production houses that line produces for JTBC. I’ve moved back home and I’m here to stay. For good.”

“N-no you’re not,” Soonyoung stutters.

“Yes, I am, so get used to it,” Wonwoo replies firmly. He reaches out, and Soonyoung flinches, taking a step back in surprise.

Something sad briefly flickers in Wonwoo’s eyes, before he fixes the folded in collar of Soonyoung’s shirt. “I’m going to bed. Good night, Soonyoung.”

He walks out of the room, leaving Soonyoung staring after him, mind rapidly bouncing off the walls inside his head. _What did he mean I broke up with him? I didn’t break up with him! Holy fuck why did I tell him I was in love with him? I never even said that to him when we were together? What the fuck is happening? Why didn’t Seulgi tell me he was staying?_

_Why did he look at me like that?_

Soonyoung sinks down onto the couch again, the thoughts jumbled up in his brain staggering him to one final conclusion.

“Well, fuck.”

*

Well, one thing’s for sure. Soonyoung does not have a good night.

He doesn’t sleep a wink, for starters, due to a number of reasons. Firstly, the cold from the outside seeps in through the walls of his room, forcing him to retreat to the living room, where the fire box burns through the night to keep him warm. The _ondol_ seems to work in there, at least.

Secondly, he can’t help but keep his eyes trained on the large windows, watching the relentless fall of snow and ice pelt and cover the ground. It doesn’t look like it’s letting up anytime soon, which jeopardizes Soonyoung’s early morning exit plan. When he wakes a little past six o’clock in the morning, he braces himself and peeks out of the window to see his prospects.

“Oh Jesus…” he murmurs under his breath. In any other circumstance, he’d be marvelling at the sparkling white blanketing everything within his line of vision, and he’d be rushing to pull on his boots, calling out for everyone to follow him out and make snowmen with him.

Alas, he can’t even see his car where he remembers he’d parked it last night. He idly hopes that no one had stolen it.

“Coffee?”

He jerks and whips around, bracing against the large glass window in an attempt not to fall down onto his butt. Wonwoo is standing right behind him, hair still mussed up and glasses looking like they’ve been shoved on. He has dark circles under his eyes—it doesn’t look like he’d slept very well either.

Soonyoung narrows his eyes at the mug he’s being offered suspiciously. “What’s that?”

Wonwoo shrugs. “I have no idea. I just know it has caffeine and it’ll warm you up.”

The second part is what entices Soonyoung to reach out and take it. He takes a tentative sip, before making a face. “This is really bitter.”

“I know you usually like it sweet—” Soonyoung bristles at him remembering “—but they didn’t have those sweeteners you usually like, and I know you don’t like white sugar in your coffee.”

“Right. Thanks,” Soonyoung says quietly. It’s too early in the morning for him to be annoyed, so he just sips at his cup, grimacing at every swallow. It does its job though—the feeling is starting to return to the tips of his fingers. “It really helps.”

Wonwoo blinks at him, sees him testing and flexing his fingers. “Why did you sleep on the couch?”

“I, uh, I think the heating in my room’s busted. And it didn’t work in any of the other spare rooms either. Just here in the living room.”

“And in the room I took,” Wonwoo adds softly. He sighs. “I wish you’d mentioned it. I could have stayed out here instead.”

Soonyoung snorts. “You? Stay out here? You get colder faster than I do.”

“Still,” Wonwoo replies. He reaches out, as if to briskly rub sensation back into Soonyoung’s arms, before he changes his mind and pats him on the shoulder awkwardly instead. “I would have pulled up a blanket and slept on the floor or something. There’s floor heating.”

“So the _ondol_ works in your room? Not fair,” Soonyoung pouts, and Wonwoo laughs a little at the sight of it.

“Soonyoung,” Wonwoo says. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to drive back to Seoul with the snow like this.” He crosses his arms, as if ready to fight Soonyoung’s stubbornness.

Soonyoung sighs, defeated. “Yeah, I know. I’m annoyed but I’m not stupid. I guess… I guess we’re stuck here.”

In the dawn light, they both look at each other fully for the first time since they stepped into the house, studying each other. Wonwoo’s just as pale as he remembered him, but Soonyoung’s skin is more golden than the last time they’d seen each other, his body sturdier and stronger, owing to too many weeks of basic hip-hop and jazz being taught to kids in the park across their studio under the sun. But there’s something about Wonwoo’s stance that informs Soonyoung that he’s not the same boy who left Seoul two years ago to pursue something he was really passionate about; there’s a quiet confidence in the way he lifts his chin and the tilt of his head. It leaves Soonyoung a little bit in awe, to be honest—he’s always had to push Wonwoo to be more confident and self-assured, and now here he is, a more fully-realized human than he was when he left.

He’d also forgotten how much of a sucker he was over Wonwoo in glasses. Damn his stupid butterflies.

“I… I guess so,” Wonwoo murmurs, a little taken aback that Soonyoung’s agreed with him. “I suppose I should find something for breakfast.”

“I’ll go with you,” Soonyoung volunteers, fingers cupped around the mug of coffee, which is practically half gone by now. Wonwoo turns to him in surprise, and Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “I’m still not convinced you know how to make anything more than fried rice, buddy. I’m just going with you for self-preservation.”

Wonwoo smothers a smile. “Of course you are. But I’ll have you know I’m halfway competent in the kitchen now,” he boasts proudly. “Me, not knowing how to cook? Past tense.”

Soonyoung rolls his eyes, tries to tamp down the amusement rolling through him. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

 _Making me feel anything more than disdain for you._ “Getting distracted from feeding us,” he says instead.

Wonwoo is the one who rolls his eyes now, and he bumps hips with Soonyoung, nudging him aside playfully. “Step aside, then.”

And Soonyoung does.

*

The morning passes by quickly. Soonyoung charges his phone and calls Seulgi and the others. After being assured that they managed to get home safely and were all watching the snowstorm from the safety of their homes, Soonyoung cuts off the conversations quickly before they ask him about how it is hanging out with Wonwoo, just the two of them. He’s not exactly sure how to answer the question.

He’d learned earlier over a breakfast of eggs and tofu that the keys had been given to Wonwoo by Seulgi yesterday morning and he’d opted to drive up ahead so that the caretakers could manage to leave before getting stuck on the road in the snow. When the snow had worsened, Wonwoo’d thought that he’d be spending the weekend stuck in before anyone else got there.

“And then you came along,” Wonwoo concludes softly.

“Funny that,” Soonyoung mutters.

There’s a long pause where they each fill their mouths with large chunks of eggs and rice. “How long have you been here, anyway?” Soonyoung asks after swallowing, wanting to curse at himself internally for asking, but he can’t help it. He needs to know.

“About… two weeks now?”

Soonyoung’s jaw drops. “And no one knew you were home?”

“Well, my family knew. Seulgi knew, of course. I told her not to tell anyone yet, though.”

“Why not?”

Wonwoo reaches over for his glass, and takes a sip before answering. “It didn’t feel right to tell anyone before you.”

Soonyoung stares at him for a long time before looking away.

They avoid talking about anything personal after that, silently choosing instead to divide the chores and keep the cabin in order—Wonwoo goes out the back to bring in more wood for the fire box, while Soonyoung takes over the kitchen to wash dishes and plan for lunch. Both of them have one eye on the windows, always aware of how much snow is continuing to fall, bringing the level of snow covering the ground to an astounding and incredibly impassable 25cm.

“This is a disaster,” Soonyoung moans, after he checks on the snow levels after putting the kettle on. “At this rate we’ll have to stay another night.”

Wonwoo looks up from the book he’s reading. “Well,” he says carefully, marking his place in the book before laying it down. “I heard from the radio that it’s supposed to be dying down tonight, but it might take a few more hours tomorrow morning before the roads are declared okay for cars.”

“I’m going to freeze my ass off on the couch again,” Soonyoung complains, before he brings the large bowl of ramyun over to the table. “Hey, help me out with the bowls and the chopsticks, will you?”

Wonwoo’s already rounding the table and walking briskly into the kitchen to help set the table.

Soonyoung bites his lip; he can’t help but remember how their friends had always commented that they were often so in tune with each other that Soonyoung would just look up and Wonwoo would instinctively know that he wanted him to pass him the soy sauce or give him more pickled radish.

 _That was then. Past tense,_ Soonyoung thinks bitterly. _Now we can’t even agree on who broke up with who._

“It was definitely you,” Wonwoo says quietly from somewhere behind him.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung exclaims, thoroughly annoyed with himself. “Was I doing it again?”

“You’ve always done it, Soon-ah,” Wonwoo tells him. He hands him a pair of chopsticks before smiling at him gently. “You’re just a little louder this time.”

“I’m not the same person,” Soonyoung retorts, defensively. He feels exposed again, like he needs to wrap the woolly throw around himself again. “I’m not the same person I used to be. You can’t just expect us to go back to being what we used to be, just because you’re based here again.”

“I’m not asking for that,” Wonwoo clarifies, sighing. “I just, I just wish we were friends again. We were friends for a long time before we started dating, Soon-ah. I just want that again, at the very least, that again.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung says briskly, scooping heaps and heaps of scorching hot noodles and soup into his bowl. The heat distracts him from the twisting sensation in his chest that feels a lot like humiliation.

“Why not?”

_Because I loved you the whole time. Because I’m afraid you’ll end up leaving and breaking my heart again. Because I know I’ll let you._

“Because!” Soonyoung finally snaps. He stands again, his chair skidding across the wooden floor. “You think I’m going to say everything’s okay just because you’re home? I’m not an idiot, Wonwoo. _You_ broke up with me. You think I’m just going to forget all that? How you made me feel that I wasn’t worth anything?” Tears are threatening to fill his eyes, but he shakes his head, furious.

“I told you—”

“Oh fuck off, I did _not_ break up with you! And if I had, I wouldn’t have made you feel as shitty as you did me.”

“Oh really?” Wonwoo’s eyes narrow, matching Soonyoung’s fire with ice. “That’s awfully rich coming from you.”

Soonyoung grabs his bowl of food. “I’m eating in my room,” he tells Wonwoo, glaring at him. “Don’t follow me!” Already he can feel the tips of his ears heat up with fury.

“At some point you’ll realize you have nowhere else to run, Soonyoung. Whether you like it or not, you’ll have to talk to me sooner or later.”

Soonyoung throws the nastiest look he can muster over his shoulder. “Don’t hold your breath.”

***

_”Wonwoo! Over here!”_

_Soonyoung waves frantically, the smile on his face at the sight of his boyfriend bunching up his cheeks adorably. He pats the spot on the bench next to him, internally relieved that Wonwoo’d arrived so that he could start to eat already. He didn’t have a long lunch break from the studio to begin with, so he had to juggle seeing Wonwoo and eating his extremely delicious-looking sandwich._

_Something flutters in his stomach when he sees Wonwoo come over, hair combed back from his face and large round glasses perched on his nose. He’s always loved how Wonwoo looked like he’d just stepped out of the pages of a magazine, but then he’d sit down and pull out a book or a game console and ignore all the admiring sighs in favor of burrowing deeper into whatever he was interested in at the moment._

_Lately it had been his D-SLR rather than his 3DS, and although Soonyoung’s whined a little about the minor neglect, he’s thrilled that Wonwoo’s finally indulging in something they’re both interested in—the visual arts—except that Soonyoung’s is slightly more kinetic than Wonwoo’s interest._

_Idly, he wonders whether he can get Wonwoo to test out his video capturing capabilities by directing him in a choreography video. It could be a sweet collab. They might even get a few thousand views on Youtube! Everyone liked those boyfriend videos, right? They’d eat their story up—childhood friends who’d just started dating a year ago after one of them (Wonwoo) had finally confessed to the other (Soonyoung). They’d get a million hits for that alone._

_“Soonyoung? Are you hearing me?”_

_“Hmm?” Soonyoung’s eyes widen; Wonwoo’s sitting next to him, looking graver than he’s seen him in awhile, and he’d missed it daydreaming about Youtube views. “Sorry, babe, I got distracted.” He leans over and presses his lips to Wonwoo’s quickly. “Tell me again. What were you saying?”_

_Wonwoo turns to him fully, with a strange look in his eye, and the butterflies in Soonyoung’s stomach flutter away, leaving an uneasy heavy feeling in his chest._

_“Soonyoung, I have something to tell you...” Wonwoo starts, and Soonyoung’s world tilts, just like that._

***

Soonyoung was Wonwoo’s first friend in high school. He was a quiet boy, skinny and lankier than most boys in their grade, who kept to himself for the first few days.

He remembered he’d nudged Jihoon during maths class, gesturing at Wonwoo’s still figure near the front of the class, one of the seats where those who didn’t exactly have friends sat. “Who’s the new kid?”

Jihoon had looked over and shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care. Ask Changkyun, if you’re so curious. He knows everyone.”

Turns out Jihoon was not incorrect in that regard. Im Changkyun was the student representative of their year, and he had shown Wonwoo around on his first day.

“He didn’t talk a lot,” Changkyun told him during one shared break they had. “But he seemed nice. Just quiet. Also just moved here from Changwon. I heard that he’s staying with Seulgi _noona_ ’s family.”

“Seulgi _noona_? Like dance club president Seulgi _noona_?”

Changkyun rolled his eyes at him. “Is there any other Seulgi in our school, Kwon?”

During their first club meeting, he saw Wonwoo sneak into the dance studio. After waving awkwardly at Seulgi, he sauntered over to the back of the room and slid down onto the floor, trying his best to shrink into the walls with his nose in a book.

Still, Soonyoung noticed him sneaking glances when he was trying to dance to the new choreography in the music video Shinee had released just that week. He messed around a little bit with some of the other sophomores before he finally jogged over to Wonwoo and sat down next to him.

“Hi! Wonwoo, right?”

“Um, yes,” Wonwoo replied. He tucked his elbows into his sides, as if trying to appear smaller. “Soonyoung, right?”

“Right,” Soonyoung said, before he wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Sorry, I get really sweaty a lot.”

“That’s okay,” Wonwoo said, putting his book down in favor of holding a conversation with Soonyoung. “You dance really well.”

“Oh.” Soonyoung didn’t know why this particular compliment made him cut his eyes away, almost shyly. He knew he was a good dancer; he worked hard because dance was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. But hearing Wonwoo’s quiet words of affirmation had electricity running through his veins—it was a feeling unlike anything he’d ever felt before. “Um. Gee. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Wonwoo replied seriously, making Soonyoung want to push up against him and poke his sides until he let out a laugh.

“So, are you waiting for Seulgi _noona_?” Soonyoung asked, trying to extend the conversation until their brief five minute water break was over.

Wonwoo nodded, pursing his lips. “Yeah. She’s, well, I guess she’s kind of my sister now.” He looked at Soonyoung, who was looking back at him with wide eyes. “Her parents took me in because my mom passed away this year in a car accident and she didn’t have any brothers and sisters who could take me in. She and Seulgi’s mom were really close.”

“Oh no. I’m so sorry Wonwoo,” Soonyoung said, horrified.

“It’s okay, Soonyoung. Thanks.”

“But-but…” Soonyoung stuttered. “What about your dad?”

Wonwoo shrugged. He seemed very well-adjusted. “I don’t remember my dad; he died when my mom was pregnant with me.”

“That… that sucks, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung said, crestfallen.

“Are you… Soonyoung, are you crying?”

“No,” Soonyoung muttered, trying to discreetly wipe away his tears. “It’s just really sad.” He tried to imagine a world where he didn’t have his mother reminding him to do his homework, where he didn’t have his father telling him to take out the trash.

Soonyoung looked up when he felt gentle fingers tap his hand. “Hey, it’s not so bad,” Wonwoo told him softly. “Sure, I miss my mom a lot, but Seulgi’s mom and dad have always been really great. And Seulgi’s always taken care of me every time we came over to Seoul.”

Wonwoo wrapped his arms around his knees, bringing them up to his chest. “Plus, the schools here are probably better than back home in Changwon. And I heard that _yaja_ here is really well-implemented.”

“That’s… that’s just the nerdiest thing I’ve ever heard anyone say.” Soonyoung warbled, still trying his best not to cry, and he’s startled when he hears a chuckle fall out of Wonwoo’s mouth.

“Guilty as charged,” Wonwoo nodded, before he laid his head on his kneecaps and smiled for the first time at Soonyoung.

Soonyoung had only been on this earth for about sixteen years, but there was something about Wonwoo’s smile that told him that this boy was going to change his life. He realized later on that it was at that moment, at the back of a room at a dance club meeting, sweat painting his back and tears streaming down his face, that Soonyoung had started down the path that led to him falling in love with one Jeon Wonwoo.

The first worst day ever.

***

He finishes the rest of his ramyun in rage-filled silence, before trying to scroll through his social media accounts for news about the snowstorm. Sadly, cell service is terrible in his room, so he finds himself creeping out and searching for better signal in the kitchen.

He stops when he sees Wonwoo staring out the window with his back to him, his broad frame casting a silhouette against the backdrop of the darkening sky. Soonyoung notices that the rate of snowflakes falling seems to be slowing down at last, although it will take a significant amount of time still to shovel through all that snow.

Having gotten his answer, he tries to back out of the room slowly without alerting Wonwoo. Naturally, he bumps into a table and almost knocks an expensive looking vase onto the floor. He gasps and catches it with both hands, but his cellphone clatters to the floor, and when he looks up, he sees Wonwoo watching him carefully.

“I’m just, I’m just holding… this,” Soonyoung explains stiffly. He rights the vase up securely, before he bends down and picks up his phone. “And now I’m going to go.”

He turns around but stops at Wonwoo’s call. “Soon-ah, wait.”

Soonyoung curses inside. He hates it when Wonwoo sounds all plaintive like that. He could very well just ignore it. He’s still pretty mad, and he’s not entirely sure he can get through another conversation with Wonwoo without shouting (so far, he’d only been successful once out of about five different conversations he’s had with him this trip).

Still. Ignoring Wonwoo had never been his forte.

“What?”

“Could you, could you stand by here?”

Soonyoung turns, suspicious. “Why?”

Wonwoo purses his lips, and tilts his head at him. “Let’s try to get to the bottom of this, without yelling at each other.” He holds a hand out, waits.

Immediately, Soonyoung scowls. Curiosity gets the better of him, however, and he pads over in his bare feet, tugging the throw around him tighter. “ _You_ try not yelling after looking at your smug face,” he mutters under his breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Soonyoung says in a faux-bright tone. He leans against the window, wincing a little at the coolness of the glass against his back. “Fine, I’ll play your game.”

“Okay,” Wonwoo nods. He adjusts his glasses, pushing it up his narrow nose. “I’ll tell you what I remember.”

***

_”Remember when I told you I was sending in applications to cinematography courses?” Wonwoo begins by asking Soonyoung a question. He’s clutching the sandwich in his hand, the garish green and yellow lettering spelling out ‘Subway’ crumpled and unreadable in his fingers. “I got an email this morning from Film Training Manitoba.”_

_“That’s good, right?” Soonyoung’s stopped eating by now, the bread tasting like cardboard in his mouth. He doesn’t have a good feeling about where this conversation is going, not at all._

_“It is. It’s great. It’s excellent, really.”_

_“Then what’s the problem?” Soonyoung wants to fidget. Wonwoo is looking at him with such unease that it’s making him nervous. “You said you were just applying for online courses, and now you have one.”_

_“Well, yes and no. Apparently, Film Training Manitoba is piloting a new program this year and that’s what they’re asking me to join,” Wonwoo says, slowly. “It’s an integrated program with classes and workshops and internships at different production houses.”_

_“What are you saying, Wonwoo?”_

_Wonwoo sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I applied for an online course, but they came back to me with an offer for the program. For free. With stuff like, housing and allowance.”_

_“Oh my God, Wonwoo!” Soonyoung swallows the bite he’d been chewing for the past few minutes, and pushes up against Wonwoo, hugging him excitedly. “That’s amazing! See, I told you your portfolio was plenty good enough!”_

_Arms come around Soonyoung, warm and familiar. “Thank you, Soon-ah.”_

_Uneasiness temporarily forgotten, Soonyoung burrows his face against the other’s shoulder, wonder and awe and pride filling him to the brim. “Shut up, this is all you. Fuck, I’m so proud of you.”_

_He draws back before people notice the excessive skinship. “So how long is the internship? You told me before the courses were, like, three months long tops right? You should be home by December, I don’t think you’ll survive a Canadian winter.”_

_Wonwoo’s face still hasn’t lightened since he’s sat down next to Soonyoung. “Since the whole thing is a combination of a lot of things, and there’s quite a lot of investment on their part, they’re asking the interns in the program to stay there for at least a year and a half. Maybe two.”_

_“I’m going to have to move there, Soonyoung. For two years.”_

_And it’s like Soonyoung’s world just... stops._

***

“Okay, so far, we’re remembering the same things.”

“Quit while you’re ahead, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo points to Soonyoung excitedly at this point, and Soonyoung regrettably notes how adorable he looks right now. “After I told you I was moving, that’s when you did it.”

Soonyoung crosses his arms over his chest, knots his brows together. “Did what?”

“Break up with me!”

“Now how did I do that, Einstein?”

Wonwoo ducks his head now, suddenly shy. Soonyoung hates how endeared he is, to this day. “I asked you…” Everything else is an unintelligible mess.

Soonyoung frowns. “Wonwoo, I can’t understand you.”

“I said, I asked you if you could think of any reason why I shouldn’t go to Canada,” Wonwoo says a little louder. He pulls at the ends of his blue jumper until they cover his knuckles, a nervous tic that Soonyoung still remembers. “And you said there wasn’t any.”

“Of course I’d say that, you shithead!” Soonyoung blurts. “Do you think I wanted to be the person to stand in the way of something you wanted for a really long time? Of course not, you’d end up _hating_ me.”

“I could never hate you, Soonyoung.”

“Is that why right after I told you that I couldn’t think of a reason for you to stay in Seoul instead of Canada, you said that meant you leaving me?” Soonyoung replies.

_”You have to do this, Wonwoo. There’s no reason for you to stay here when an opportunity like this exists.”_

_“But this means I have to leave. I have to leave you. What if… what if I don’t just stay there for the two years? What if I have to stay for longer?”_

_“Stay? What do you mean, Wonwoo? Are you saying you want to break up?”_

_Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, only stares at Soonyoung with wide eyes. “I… I don’t want to hold you back, Soonyoung.”_

_“Because you think I’d be holding you back here?”_

_“That’s not—”_

_“Right.” Soonyoung rushes to speak over him, sandwich lying on the bench, forgotten. Anger paints his cheeks pink with indignation. “Plenty of fish out there in Canada, I guess. What do you need me for?”_

_“Soonyoung…”_

_Soonyoung looks at him, then, crestfallen and silent and helpless. “Just go, Wonwoo.”_

_He waits for five full minutes after Wonwoo’s left to start crying._

Oddly enough, he’s not mad; not as mad as he thought he would be, anyway. He didn’t think that Wonwoo would consider his telling him that he should go to Canada to mean that he didn’t want to wait for him. Who would think that?

“Because I was. I was leaving you,” Wonwoo answers him plainly, and Soonyoung can’t believe that he missed this the first time, how he’d been so gut-punched at the idea of Wonwoo flying all the way across the world without him that he’d missed that Wonwoo had been leaving places and people his whole life. That Wonwoo had been waiting for him to be the one to say that he should leave, but also that he should come back.

Instead, in his hurt and anger, he’d told Wonwoo to leave and forget him. Never mind how much he’d loved Wonwoo back then, even though they hadn’t said it to each other yet. Never mind that he was just waiting for the right time to ask Wonwoo to move in together, to get a cat together, since he’s so fond of the animal, to think about spending the rest of their lives together. Because he was it for Soonyoung, he had been for years.

Past tense.

Soonyoung chuckles at the irony of the realization, shakes his head. “Oh Wonwoo. I wish you had just said something. We could have worked things out, instead of…” He trails off, gesturing at the space between them.

Wonwoo steps forward, hope lighting his eyes. Soonyoung inhales sharply; he’s so close to him, so close that he could just reach out and he’d be touching him. And Soonyoung wants to, wants to lay a hand against the curve of his cheek, wants to feel his smile under his fingers. There’s an ache simmering in his stomach now, a yearning, a remembering. Maybe he’s wanted this since he walked through the door, since he laid eyes on Wonwoo again for the first time in two years.

It’s so hard to forget a person when they’re so much a part of you. Nothing, not even hatred or anger, can go as deep as love.

“You’re right, Soonyoung," Wonwoo says, expression unreadable. He's so close. When did he get that close? "Maybe if I didn’t walk away that day, I would have told you that I loved you.”

It’s at that exact moment that the electricity goes out.

*

Soonyoung is trying his best not to die.

It’s a Herculean task, however. No matter how many blankets he’s piled on top of himself, how much thermal undergarments he’s sporting, and how many socks he’s put on his feet, he still finds himself shivering.

Forget about slumber—Soonyoung is worried that if he falls asleep, then frostbite would take him.

He tries playing games and videos on his phone, but he’s horribly distracted by the shaking of his hand. Books are also out of the question—it’s too dark to see beyond his bed. He thinks about making himself a cup of tea, before he remembers that the stove is electrical.

_I am going to die twenty feet away from the guy I’m in love with. This is the third through the fifth worst day ever._

He thinks about Wonwoo, snug under his blanket in his warm heated room. _I wonder if he still sleeps in his boxer shorts like he used to…_

He shakes his head.

When the lights had gone out, they’d separated pretty quickly. “I’ll check the generator,” Wonwoo had stuttered.

“I’ll go for the wood,” Soonyoung had spluttered right back. After they’d determined that the generator wouldn’t start and that they had enough wood to last them the night, Soonyoung told Wonwoo he’d be retiring for the night.

“But what about dinner?”

Fuck, what _about_ dinner? “I have snacks in my bag. Chips, and stuff. I’ll be fine.”

He ran away again. He’s always doing that.

He breathes in and out, suppressing another shiver.

Maybe it’s time he does the running.

Gathering his courage, he toes off the extra pairs of socks he’d put on and pulls off the extra thermal undergarments. “Fuck,” he whispers to himself, convinced that if he squinted hard enough he could see the puffs of cold air his swear word breathed into existence. “So damn cold.”

Carrying only his favored throw (he considers it kind of his cape by now), he tiptoes to the room nearest to the front door, just off the living room.

It’s just a door. Soonyoung doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. He lifts a hand, and knocks before he loses his nerve.

He waits. Thirty seconds pass, with no sound coming from the other side, and they erode at his already fragile self-confidence. _Maybe this was a mistake,_ he thinks to himself.

Soonyoung is about to back away and make his way to the couch when the door opens.

Wonwoo’s hair is a mess, and his cheek has pillow marks. He has his glasses on, and it’s like every morning that Soonyoung spent going over to Wonwoo’s to have breakfast with him, every afternoon that he spent waking Wonwoo up from a post-lunch nap, every middle of the night that he spent with Wonwoo, shaking him awake to persuade him to get up and make him some food or some snacks with a press of his lips against his. The way Wonwoo looks at him right now—confused, sleepy, soft—makes Soonyoung ache with the need to do all of that, two years gone in an instance.

“Hi,” Soonyoung says.

“Hi,” Wonwoo answers.

“Can I come in?”

Wonwoo holds the door open in invitation. And Soonyoung takes it.

*

The first thing Soonyoung says is, “Fuck.”

“Problem?” Wonwoo says, coming up from behind him.

“Yes,” Soonyoung says firmly. “The heating is wonderful in this room, that’s the problem.” The room Wonwoo had taken was clearly the master bedroom, which was incidentally the room closest to the firebox. It was beautifully furnished with soft pillows everywhere and rich wooden chests and cabinets. The walls were painted a rich cobalt blue, which framed large windows that were similar to the living room windows.

In the middle of the room was a large four poster bed, with a deep blue comforter thrown over it that matched the colors of the walls. Only one side of it was rumpled—the other side was neat and pristine, untouched.

Wonwoo chuckles. “I told you, you were welcome to stay here. It didn’t have to take to take you almost getting hypothermia to capitulate.” He pats the bed. “Stay here. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“You, you don’t have to do that.” Soonyoung swallows audibly, before climbing into the bed from the other side.

Wonwoo looks at him, curious. Waiting.

Soonyoung huffs impatiently. “We can share the bed. It doesn’t make sense for you to stay on the floor when there’s enough space.”

“I see,” Wonwoo nods. “Soonyoung, are you sure?”

“I promise not to brain you,” Soonyoung says, rolling his eyes. He turns away abruptly, hoping the dark of the night masks the full-on blush he knows his cheeks are displaying. “Good night, and thank you.” He turns onto his side and slides underneath the blankets, not waiting to see if Wonwoo would take his invitation or not.

Soonyoung feels the bed dip behind him and becomes acutely aware of something familiar moving behind him. He closes his eyes. It’s too easy to turn back time for things the body remembers way too easily.

“Soonyoung? Are you still awake?”

Wonwoo’s voice is both near and far. Soonyoung doesn’t dare turn around to find out.

“Obviously. But we should both get some sleep soon. It’ll take us forever to get home tomorrow.”

“I was having a hard time sleeping before you knocked on my door.”

Soonyoung’s not going to take the bait. “Why?” Dammit.

“I was thinking about the boy you met the first time in the dance studio. Do you remember?”

 _How could Soonyoung forget?_ “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.”

“I’ll tell you something about that boy. He was so nervous, so scared. Everything was so new. New house, new family, new school.”

Soonyoung remembers, and he closes his eyes at the memory of the stoic, brave boy. “He… he was nice. A very nice boy.”

“You made him feel right at ease.”

He snorts. “I can’t imagine why.”

Wonwoo pauses before continuing and Soonyoung swears he’s inched a little closer. “You became that boy’s most important person, you know.”

It hurts to swallow now. “Did I?”

“You did. And ever since then, that boy always thought about you. It’s why the first thing that boy did after getting out of the military was confess to you that he liked you and he wanted to take you out.”

It’s getting harder to keep his voice calm. “So, um, why did it take him so long? To tell me.”

“Because the boy was scared. He always thought that you didn’t feel the same way, that you didn’t feel as strongly as he did.”

“The boy was stupid, then.”

Wonwoo chuckles under his breath. “I guess he was. Or maybe he was just so convinced about the way he saw the relationship that he couldn’t open his eyes and see that you had liked him the entire time. Maybe he felt that he didn’t deserve that.”

Soonyoung bites his lip. “I did. I did like him. I liked him a lot.”

He feels a hand on the curve of his shoulder and he stiffens. Wonwoo is so close now. He’s not sure how he feels about it. “Past tense?”

Soonyoung turns around, and there Wonwoo is, close enough to touch, close enough to feel. So he does. He gives in, reaching out, placing his hands on Wonwoo’s shoulder, dragging his fingers until he’s clutching at the collar of his shirt. Wonwoo is so close Soonyoung can feel his warmth in the shared space of the duvet, their knees knocking against each other.

Far from frozen now, it feels like a furnace underneath the covers. Wonwoo shifts underneath his hands, his eyes trained on his, steady and waiting. Soonyoung can feel his heart jackhammering against his chest.

“Don’t do this.”

Wonwoo leans forward, and Soonyoung gulps when he touches his forehead to his. His breath shudders out.

“Remember when I said you talked out loud?”

Soonyoung leans back, alarmed. “Why? What did I say?”

Wonwoo grins at him, playful. “You said you loved me this whole time.”

“Oh fuck.”

“So is it true that you loved me? Way back then?”

Soonyoung thinks perhaps frostbite would be better than this. He tries to move backwards but Wonwoo has somehow encircled his arms around his waist, and it’s so familiar yet so foreign and the rational, angry part of Soonyoung’s brain is telling him to shove him off, to tell him to go back to the original plan of sleeping on the floor instead.

The tender side of his heart, though, the part that had always missed Wonwoo even in the deepest throes of his anger, wins out. There was never any contest.

Soonyoung takes a deep breath, and looks into Wonwoo’s face, bathed in moonlight. Without his glasses and without anyone else in the room but them, there’s nothing but softness and honesty and hope on his face, and it feels like something clicks in Soonyoung’s heart, the missing piece of him.

“You asshole,” Soonyoung whispers, inching ever closer. “I’ve always loved you.”

Wonwoo’s hands pull him tighter against him until they’re only a few inches apart. “Past tense?” he breathes, eyes closed, lips glancing off his.

Soonyoung exhales, before closing his eyes. “No.”

He makes a small noise of elation when Wonwoo finally surges forward and kisses him, warm and insistent and holy fuck, Soonyoung’s missed this, missed his Wonwoo, missed the taste of him, the feel of him. He wraps his arms around Wonwoo’s neck to pull him closer because he doesn’t ever want to let him go, not now, not after going through the most miserable two years of his life without his stupid face and his stupid smile and the stupid way he makes Soonyoung see stars whenever he kisses him, like he’s doing now.

He pulls away eventually, unfortunately, and he opens his eyes to see Wonwoo staring fondly down at him. “What?” Soonyoung asks; he tries to look affronted but he imagines it won’t have much of an effect on Wonwoo, because he also looks like one of those people who had an extra slice of pie, cream dollops included. “Stop looking at me like that.” _And go back to kissing me, maybe._

“You always were a crier, Kwon Soonyoung,” Wonwoo says softly, like he’s still in a disbelieving stupor. He reaches up and traces the wetness trailing down the curve of Soonyoung’s cheek, brushing it away with his thumb.

Soonyoung scrunches up his nose. “Shut up.”

Wonwoo closes his eyes again, leaning down to brush his lips against Soonyoung’s as he spoke. “I’ve always loved you too. Ever since you cried because you thought my life was sad. Ever since you sat down next to me and decided to be my friend.”

Soonyoung kisses him then, long and sweet, the intensity of the nostalgia swirling around inside him making him press against Wonwoo’s body, reach under his shirt to press his palms against his back. He can’t live without this boy. He does not ever want to live without this boy.

He pulls away, just an inch or two, to whisper against the skin of Wonwoo’s jaw. “That’s a very long time to love me.”

“I feel like I loved you instantly. Had always loved you,” Wonwoo murmurs. Soonyoung’s tucked his head into Wonwoo’s neck, breathing in, committing the shape and the scent of him to memory again. “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you.”

“I’m glad you finally told me,” Soonyoung says, voice muffled.

“And even when I left because you broke up with me—”

“Oh my God,” Soonyoung reacts, pulling away. He glares up at Wonwoo, who is giving him a playful smirk. “I told you, I did _not_ break up with you.”

“—I still loved you.” Wonwoo’s smirk fades into small, quiet smile, the kind he used to save just for Soonyoung. It makes Soonyoung’s heart feel like growing ten times bigger. “I still loved you. You were in every work that I produced, every bowl of kimchi rice that I made, every flake of snow that I saw.”

Soonyoung doesn’t stop the tears from falling now. “Canada has a lot of snow.”

Wonwoo laughs, before kissing both of Soonyoung’s cheeks, where the tears ran. “Tell me about it. But Seoul seems to be doing just fine on that front.”

Soonyoung giggles. It felt good to do that again with Wonwoo. “… did you date anyone in Canada?”

He smiled at Soonyoung. “No. Did you?

The other purses his lips at him. “Maybe.”

Wonwoo shoves at him playfully, and they spend a few seconds jostling playfully underneath the sheets, their legs tangling and rubbing against each other’s. It felt like home. “And here I thought you were still in love with me this whole time.”

“Hey, stop! I thought you broke up with me!”

“Ah,” Wonwoo cackles. “So now you _do_ admit that you broke up with me.”

Soonyoung rolls his eyes, before he drags Wonwoo closer to slide his lips against his again, falling back into old habits easily. “You’re insufferable.” He wants to kiss the pretentious little smirk off his face.

“I am,” he murmurs against his mouth. “But I’m here now, exactly where I want to be. So who’s the winner now?”

“So you think sharing a bed with me while stuck in a snow storm in Gangwon-do is winning?” Soonyoung asks. He’s settling his head on Wonwoo’s chest, snuggled up against him.

He knows there’s still plenty of things to thresh out between them, and that the morning will bring more questions and plenty of snow shoveling, but Soonyoung feels like whatever comes, he’ll handle it, because he’s not going to let anything come between them, not anymore.

It was time to stop being angry and lying to himself and live in the present. No more past tense.

Wonwoo presses a kiss onto Soonyoung’s forehead. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

*

“Holy shit, Seulgi’s going to flip.”


End file.
